


Recovery Mode

by monopoisoner



Series: Digital Hearts [1]
Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, Repressed Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-04 14:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monopoisoner/pseuds/monopoisoner
Summary: Digital hearts beat in time with human pulses. Three loosely connected stories about those struggling to understand what it means to feel.It was insanity to commit the same a fourth time. That didn’t say much for Hwanwoong. It had been insanity to create Ravn in the first place.





	Recovery Mode

Hwanwoong sat in front of the android, questioning his sanity. He hadn’t left his house for over nine days, hadn’t showered for at least two, and he couldn’t even remember when he had his last meal. But nothing hurt him more than looking at his resting face, recalling memories that he alone knew now.

Three times to survive a broken heart. Three chances to learn his lesson. Three reasons to stop trying again.

Yet here he was, at the edge of yet another attempt.

He could still stop. He could trash the code, sell off the body and strive for a normal life. He could eventually learn to live with the hole in his chest, the giant cavity someone once filled just by being around him. But even as he thought that, his hands moved across the keyboard, inputting the code that would activate the android. His index finger hovered over the enter key for just a brief moment; there would be no going back after he let it run.

A soft tap on the key and the android came to life. He spun around to face the taller man who was human to him in everything but the most literal sense. Warm dark brown eyes met his; they were familiar, yet alien, lacking the easy affection he associated with them. From now on, they were strangers, and Hwanwoong was going to do his damnedest to remind his fickle heart of that fact.

  


“Woongie.”

Hwanwoong’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname. Memories of pain mixed with the simple pleasure of hearing Ravn’s voice call his name. He swiveled his chair around, only to be greeted by a tray full of warm food.

“I told you not to call me that.” Still, he accepted the tray. “What’s this?”

“But it suits you. Brunch... and yesterday’s dinner. You haven’t eaten in a while.”

The smile on Ravn’s face matched the warmth of the food on his lap; Hwanwoong looked away. He cursed himself for not changing his appearance even a little bit. Just bleaching his hair a different color would’ve helped. He ate, mostly to stop himself from staring. A change in his voice? No, he would probably just get irritated and change him back. With a sigh, he knew he wouldn’t change a thing despite it being within his abilities.

Weeks had passed since Ravn had woken up. He’d quickly grown accustomed to his moods and ran the house fairly efficiently. He spent more time than was necessary mothering him; Hwanwoong wasn’t sure where that came from. He didn’t remember tweaking anything like that. But without fail, Ravn would come in during meal times, food of some sort in hand.

Hwanwoong wouldn’t admit it, but he liked it. His parents treated him like an equal, and he liked them well enough. He’d never lacked for anything. But sometimes craved the easy affection that existed between most parent and child units, the almost thoughtless way they cared for each other.

Ravn provided that. Maybe if he kept telling himself he was like family, he might convince himself that he was an older brother to him.

He gave the cleared tray back to Ravn, who flashed him an easy grin in return. The natural confidence behind it made his heart skip a beat.

_Older brother._ Yeah, right.

The blonde engineer made a concentrated effort to keep his distance after that. It was easier said than done when the android made it a habit to worm his way into his life. His purpose was to assist him and on the surface, Ravn was doing exactly that. But Hwanwoong was reluctant to rely on him. To rely on him meant to depend on him, and to depend on him meant to become attached; he’d made that mistake thrice before. It was insanity to commit the same a fourth time. That didn’t say much for Hwanwoong. It had been insanity to create Ravn in the first place.

It was easy to stay away during the day. They both had their own tasks. He worked in his lab, Ravn ran the house and did the outdoors errands for him. It was harder at night; he stayed close by, often remaining in the basement with him until he called it a night. Memories hung close, reminders of similar hours spent with a ghost he could see in the android. Sometimes they were soft, lending him an eerie warmth as he delved into algorithms. Other times they were sharp, causing his hands to shake while he connected plugs and ports. Most times they were simply there, a sword hanging over his head that couldn’t be ignored.

“Woongie, you’re falling asleep on your desk.”

The blonde blinked, clearing away the memories that were merging with dreams behind his eyes. Slowly they dissipated; he turned to his left where a hand sat on his shoulder. He looked up to see Ravn, brown eyes narrowed in reprimand at his current state. Hwanwoong looked around him; forgotten cups and utensils were strewn about his desk while scrunched up papers missed their mark and instead sat outside the trash bin. The screen in front of him was just line after line of the letter “h.”

“Ah.” There wasn’t much he could say in defense.

“Get some sleep. I’ll clean up.”

Ravn reached over to pull him up; Hwanwoong visibly winced at the contact and pulled away. There was too much familiarity in the gesture; the memory had a jagged edge this time. He yearned to lean into his strength but knew better than that. The stinging pain was a reminder to strengthen his resolve.

“I’ve got it. I can get up by myself.” And he did, though grogginess clung onto every move, slowing him down. In the span of time it took him to get to the stairs, Ravn had already tidied up the trash and shut down his computer. When he looked behind him, the android was following in his steps.

He safely reached his bedroom door. Ravn was about to pull it open for him, intending to do his usual tasks. The blonde held him back, shaking his head. Hwanwoong never asked him to, but the black-haired male always prepared his clothes, pulled the curtain shut — small things that he’d come to expect. He couldn’t afford that.

As he stepped past the doorway, he looked back to see Ravn’s face. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a flash of emotion in his dark brown eyes. He pushed the thought away; he had too many problems of his own, he couldn’t add the android’s to the mix.

“Good night, Ravn.” He turned around, pushing the door back with his foot.

“Good night, Woong.”

The door shut behind him with finality.

  


Hwanwoong kept himself locked away from him. The door the blonde shut in his face wasn’t just physical; there was an emotional one as well. Every time he got too close, he would pull away. The tiny pinpricks he felt at the thought he recognized as pain.

Ravn didn’t think he’d experience it as an android. Hwanwoong hadn’t bothered putting pain receptors on him. But searches revealed that there was pain that went beyond the physical. If the stories, movies, and poems were to be believed, this was the kind of pain that shaped a human. He welcomed the feeling, letting it roll over him in waves, allowing it to dissipate as he went about his tasks.

It worked most times. He didn’t _want_ to be human, but he wanted to learn about them. Firsthand knowledge was invaluable when it came to a subject as complex as Hwanwoong.

He studied him. He didn’t make it obvious, but he didn’t have to try very hard to hide it. Hwanwoong made a concentrated effort to avoid looking at him. It was one of the first things he noticed. He’d thought it was a nervous tick, unused to being around others.

Then Dongju had come by. Easy affection flowed between them. Hwanwoong didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around the taller male or vice verse. When the engineer called on Leedo to do his maintenance, he made eye contact with the other android just as easily. But with Ravn, it was a struggle to even have him look in his general direction.

“Yo—Ravn?”

Ravn looked up from his seat, registering the voice of the male in front of him. They were both waiting for Hwanwoong to finish whatever he was doing to Leedo. Thick eyelashes shadowed the man’s already dark eyes, making it hard to read them. If he hadn’t seen him with Hwanwoong, he would’ve said the man lacked the engineer’s natural warmth. No, he simply reserved it for certain people.

“Is there something you needed, Dongju?”

He hesitated as if debating what to say. “How’s Hwanwoong?”

“Didn’t he answer you earlier?”

He was met with a deadpan expression; a small smile formed on the android’s lips. Dongju definitely knew the blonde well.

“You probably already realize he doesn’t answer truthfully.”

“He doesn’t keep good habits.”

“Most of us know that. How is he with you?”

The smile disappeared from his face, replaced with a frown. It was an odd question.

“He’s... distant.” He paused, his words hanging in the air between them. There was an expectant look on Dongju’s face as if he was looking for a specific answer from him. He searched his options; honesty felt like the best choice. “It’s like he keeps bracing for the worst to happen whenever our eyes meet. There’s always a flicker of fear.”

“Ah.” There was knowledge in his tone. Dark brown eyes turned to the human, but Dongju simply looked at him. Whatever he knew, he wasn’t going to tell him. He felt a trickle of irritation — no, frustration. That’s what it was called. He was frustrated that Dongju clearly knew something but chose to keep him in the dark.

Before he could question him, a door opened in the hallway. They both turned towards Leedo and Hwanwoong, engaged in a conversation of their own. When Leedo broke away from the blonde to join Dongju, he studied them for a change.

He envied what he saw.

There was distance, yes, but there was also a connection. The human didn’t try to sever the bridge Leedo was trying to build between them. In small ways, he took his own steps towards the android. Dongju relied on him, and the beginnings of trust were there. He was sure Leedo would eventually reach him.

In comparison, Hwanwoong was dead set on ruining any path Ravn tried to form to him. Nothing he knew seemed to work in the context of the blonde. There was a wall between them he didn’t know how to breach. Logically, knew he didn’t have to scale it. But he wanted to. It was that simple. He couldn’t say why he wanted, just that he did.

They bid the pair goodbye and once again they were alone in the old house.

Ravn turned, to face Hwanwoong, expecting the human to be looking at the door. Instead, their eyes met. Hwanwoong was looking at him, really looking at him with an unfiltered gaze. What he saw in them left him breathless; pain, fear but most of all, defeat. It was barely a second until he blinked those feelings away, a curtain veiling the broken soul inside.

He couldn’t say anything as Hwanwoong walked away. He simply watched his retreating back, leftover emotions holding him in place.

  


The mirror reflected every gesture and every breath. It showed his triumphs as well as his mistakes, each one making itself known on its surface. The most objective judge there could ever be, yet it could only guide you towards the right path.

Hwanwoong was oblivious to everything. Sweat dripped from his brow as he matched the music, uncaring of a world outside beat and melody. He didn’t see a tall figure take a seat to watch him, dark brown eyes studying his form. It wasn’t until the music ended that he noticed, meeting his gaze through the mirror. He turned in one smooth movement. Ravn stood and walked to approach him, a small towel and bottle of water in hand. He took both gratefully.

“You looked beautiful.”

Hwanwoong shrugged off the compliment. He always felt most vulnerable right after a performance, even a private one. He needed a moment to build up his walls, which were already weak against the android beside him. The conversation with Leedo two days ago still unsettled him. As he took a sip, Ravn looked ready to ask a question. He gestured to let him speak.

“Would you teach me?”

Hwanwoong almost spit out the water; he sent himself into a coughing fit instead. When he finally recovered, he looked up in incredulity. The pleading look in his eyes told him Ravn was dead serious about the question.

“You could just watch me and you would be able to do it. You’ve got a learning system in there.” The blonde reached over and tapped him once against the chest; a rare gesture of affection. He turned around to face the mirror again, not quite finished with his routine. Hwanwoong didn’t see Ravn cover the spot he touched with his own hand shortly after.

“Then can I stay and watch?”

“... You can.” His voice was colored with gray, his reluctance evident each syllable. When their eyes met through the mirror’s reflection, Hwanwoong’s were bleak. Ravn almost regretted the request, but he sat and watched his maker turn on the music again.

He was stiff at first, none of the careless grace from earlier present. But it didn’t take long until he was wrapped up in the choreography. Hwanwoong soon forgot his small audience, losing himself in the rhythm. Dance was an escape he found when the memories gathered too close; music was a balm on the wound while the actions were a distraction from the pain.

By the time he finished, the sun was falling behind him. It cast shadows longer than his lithe form on the glossy hardwood floor. He was alone in the studio, but a fresh bottle of water sat where Ravn had been. With the adrenaline from dancing fading away, loneliness sat on him like a heavy blanket. He sought the android out, taking small sips of water as he walked through the old house he lived in.

He found Ravn in the kitchen, plating what appeared to be his dinner. The android pushed it in his direction when he approached. He sat down, looking gratefully at him.

“Thank you. I wouldn’t have minded waiting since you said you wanted to watch.” Despite that, Hwanwoong immediately dug in the moment he was given utensils. Exercise made him hungry.

“You didn’t want me around.” Hwanwoong couldn’t bring himself to disagree. Ravn continued. “I watched for a while, but then you kept going so I thought I should get started on dinner soon.”

Companionable silence fell between them as Hwanwoong took a few bites. The mood suited the twilight settling outside, where the last of the sun’s rays were barely visible over the horizon. In these quiet atmospheres, the blonde’s walls were weakest, yet he didn’t realize it himself.

“What did you do today?”

Ravn looked up, his mind obviously elsewhere. He was bewildered for a moment, as if surprised, but then replied.

“A bit of cleaning, but mostly I studied how to tune a piano.” When Hwanwoong gestured at him to continue, he shrugged. “The piano in the living room; there was a tuning set beside it so I decided to try and fix it. I was going to tell you when I finished, but you were dancing.”

He nodded in understanding. “Ah. Anything you wanted to try playing?”

“Huh?”

“You tuned the piano right? Did you want to play something in particular?” He pushed the empty plate in Ravn’s direction; he was finished.

Confusion was evident in every feature of his face. Rare for an android, as they usually thought better than humans themselves. Still, he took the plate and placed it in the half-full dishwasher. Hwanwoong could physically see him think about his answer before he spoke. His eyes would stray to somewhere far off, his fingers would settle on some sort of surface. A habit that never left him.

“No.” Dark brown eyes looked in his direction. “I thought you had a piano because you played.”

“Me? Oh, I don’t play. I didn’t buy it for myself.” He left it at that, standing up from his seat. He hadn’t meant to say that much. If he seemed rushed to leave, he knew Ravn wouldn’t ask why. He knew whenever he wanted to be left alone. Ironically enough, an android was one of the most sympathetic people he’d ever met.

“I’m going to work in the laboratory for a bit. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

  


In the dimmed lights of his workshop, Hwanwoong sighed in defeat. Three screens faced him, but his focus was on only one. In his fifth attempt in a row, his program rendered unusable. Logical errors aside, his syntax was a mess, his code editor pointing out his numerous mistakes.

A glance at the clock told him it was eleven. Though not late by his personal standards, he wouldn’t accomplish any meaningful work in the state he was in. He turned the system off, accepting the loss. Physically, he was tired, but his mind remained active with... nothing really. As he filtered through his thoughts, the blonde couldn’t find one that stuck. Plans, lists, memories; they were all just one endless stream that ran through him.

He stood and walked away, letting them flow past without grasping a single one. Habit more than anything else let him safely traverse the staircase out his laboratory.

The blonde expected silence when he reached the house’s main floor. Instead, the soft sound of a piano bounced off the old walls, as if unaccustomed to the noise. That alone made the house feel more like a stranger’s than his own.

He followed the music; he wasn’t surprised to find Ravn seated at the piano.

Hwanwoong found comfort in the sound of the keys, the way he caressed them almost lovingly. Each note was like a letter to a language he loved, even if he didn’t fully understand it. Ravn was fully focused on his playing. His dark brown eyes saw only the guide in his head, ignoring the world around him. Before now, Hwanwoong rarely looked at the android, afraid of the pain it might bring. But he stood still, watching each gesture as if there was a meaning hidden behind each one. Though it ached, tonight there was something almost liberating about the pain.

It was almost like the healing of a wound.

When he finished, it was Hwanwoong who approached him and sat by his side, leaning against his strength.

“Keep playing, please.”

So Ravn did, playing well into the night. Minutes turned into hours without either of them noticing. It was only when he felt Hwanwoong’s breathing even out and his weight settle fully on him that he stopped. He carried the unconscious human to his room, taking care not to wake him as he settled him into bed.

For the first time in a very long time, Hwanwoong slept peacefully, dreaming of nothing but the sound of a piano and the warmth of another by his side.

  


There were touches of someone who once was everywhere in the house. Small things that didn’t fit the person whom he called Yeo Hwanwoong, but a different entity altogether. The abandoned piano in the living room, the tiny cat ornaments on the windowsill, and the clothes he wore now: all evidence of someone else’s presence.

But the biggest trace was in Hwanwoong himself. It was in the way the human looked at him when he thought he had his attention elsewhere. He caught glimpses of a soul so shattered, edges so jagged that they cut just by existing.

He was everywhere, but they both pretended they didn’t see him.

Ravn sat at the piano, his hands on the keys playing a tune that came from one of the albums in his room. Last night, there’d been pain in Hwanwoong’s gaze. But more than that, there was serenity interwoven in it. He couldn’t grasp how that was possible; none of the emotions he could name matched it.

Hwanwoong came in, a mug of tea smoothed down with sugar and milk in hand. He looked much more rested than he had yesterday. The bags beneath his eyes were still there, but no longer bruised from lack of sleep. Rather than sit beside him, the blonde settled onto the couch, contentedly sipping his tea in the sunny spot.

“Do you have anything you want me to play?”

“No, play what you like.”

He chose one at random and played the stringed instrument. He only stopped once Hwanwoong had to leave, and they both returned to their respective tasks.

It soon became routine. A few songs in the morning while Hwanwoong ate breakfast in the living room, reading through the news. A longer set at night, especially when sleep escaped the human.

Ravn craved those hours. The distance between him and Hwanwoong was inconsequential when the music played. He searched for songs, trying to find melodies that matched the moods that fell between them. As his repertoire expanded, his need for the perfect song grew. One day Hwanwoong walked in on him hunched over a tablet, a music score visible on its screen.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to write a song.”

If there was a wrong answer to that question, that would’ve been it. Something in Hwanwoong shut down; a curtain smothered the lights in his eyes and he physically took a step back. He turned around, not meeting Ravn’s eyes as he retreated. He didn’t bother telling the android where he was going; they both knew he was going to be in the laboratory.

The question was how long.

  


The piano routine disappeared with Hwanwoong burying himself in his work. It was worse than before; he barely resurfaced from the basement. Most of his waking hours and even a few of his unconscious ones were spent in his workshop. He could barely bring himself to face Ravn, and the black-haired man knew that, only coming in to deliver his meals. The android didn’t even hide the fact he was hurt. Or more like couldn’t — he probably didn’t realize it himself. His emotions were limited by what he learned from him.

The expressions he wore broke Hwanwoong. He hated the fact he affected him this way when he’d made the conscious decision to distance himself. It was the stupid piano. Choosing to simply play another’s song was a bittersweet reminder that he was someone else.

Until he said he wanted to write a song.

He tried to shut down the melody playing in his head, forgotten lyrics making themselves known again. The song had brought him happiness once but now it only served as a reminder for something that was.

He worked through the fatigue that gripped his body, exhaustion making his mind sloppy. But it wasn’t enough to smother his aching heart’s loud protests. The thought of shutting Ravn down crossed his mind, but it only served as a knife to his chest. He knew he could never bring himself to do it.

It was his fifth day of no sleep. A headache drilled itself into his skull, going deeper until he could think of nothing else. Ravn had come in with breakfast, but he’d pushed him away. He hadn’t had an appetite all week, much less now when his brain felt like there was a hammer rhythmically pounding against it.

He pulled open the drawer on his desk. The blonde picked up the small container and rubbed it between his fingers. The three chips inside carelessly banged against each other, as if they were nothing precious. As if they hadn’t meant the world to him at one point. He hated how he couldn’t even bring himself to dispose of it.

He tossed the container back into its slot, spinning his chair to face the monitor. Why was he so weak? He’d known Ravn was a piss poor excuse to “replace” Youngjo. If one could even call him a replacement; he was basically Youngjo with a different name. Hell, the name itself was something Youngjo came up with. Tears threatened to spill over, buried memories and bitter emotions overwhelming him.

Why did he have to get corrupted? Why did he shut down? Why did he have to be the only one to remember?

_Why couldn’t he let him go?_

The world turned to black in that instant.

  


Ravn watched the blonde sleep, hesitating to leave his side for even a moment. His fever ran high, his breathing was shallow and he remained restless, even in his dreams. He knew from his database that this was normal, but that did nothing to ease his worries. Finding him collapsed on his chair when he’d gone down to serve him lunch left him anxious. He’d forcibly shut down the feeling part of his algorithm, lest he send himself into panic and make it worse for the human. But now that he was safely in bed, his emotions were making themselves known. They made him sick, despite knowing that wasn’t physically possible.

He reached over with a small towel, wiping the sweat from his brow when Hwanwoong uttered a single word.

“Youngjo.”

The amount of heartbreak in his voice tore through him. So much pain contained in those two syllables.

Yet even as he ached in sympathy, something else seized him. It’s what caused him to hold back from delivering a touch of comfort. Inside, an ugly black monster cast a shadow on his virtual heart. It gripped him, wringing it dry until all that was left behind was a piercing angry hurt. It threatened to swallow him whole.

Ravn couldn’t call it jealousy, because Hwanwoong was never his to begin with.

He stood, letting his footsteps carry him out the bedroom. He kept busy, distancing himself from the pain that drilled a hole through him. He cleaned the unused rooms, tended the gardens and even sorted through the library. As he poured through the countless tomes, the pain eased into a dull ache until finally, he could breathe again.

He stayed in the library and continued to peruse the shelves, idly wondering why his owner kept them. He opened one at random; a small bookmark fell out as he did. On the small piece of plastic was an illustration of a cat. Another memento of someone he now knew as Youngjo.

The old house seemed to sigh with the weight of memories, as burdened as its owner. He envied them for it. The android had the entirety of the world’s knowledge at his fingertips, but still he felt lacking. From the clothes he wore to the things he knew, they were all things that he simply received. They were always from someone else.

Even Hwanwoong.

It was as clear as day that whoever Youngjo was, his maker had given his heart to him. He knew Hwanwoong cared for him, but it was finite. An aquarium compared to the almost depthless ocean he had for Youngjo. He occupied his heart so much that Ravn knew he should be grateful for whatever he could take for himself. But Hwanwoong was the first to teach him that emotion didn’t follow logic, even for an android like him. For the first time in his existence, he wished he didn’t have the program that mimicked the human heart.

  


Ravn finally returned to Hwanwoong’s side when he felt his emotions settle. They ached, but they no longer held him captive.

The worst of the fever was done. He wiped away the sweat and grime, changed his clothes, all while the human slept dreamlessly. The few times he woke up, the android was immediately there, attending to his needs. The small smile he offered in gratitude was like the sun’s rays peeking through storm clouds. It soothed his jagged emotions even as he dreaded its disappearance.

As the moon peaked overhead, Hwanwoong fell back to sleep. Ravn pulled the blinds closed but left the door open in case the human might need him. Not that he needed it open; it was simply a signal for his maker that he was nearby.

There wasn’t any more work to be done, and he’d been afraid of that. The distance he’d made between him and the pain would soon disappear. Even now, as he paced around the house, it was slowly trickling back into his heart, drop by drop, until it threatened to overflow again. He spent a few minutes on the piano, but for the first time, he found no refuge in the music. Eventually he stopped, laying crimson velvet across the black and white keys.

He knew that no matter how much he distracted himself, he would find no escape from the mystery named Youngjo. To finally find peace, he needed to learn who he was.

Ravn searched online; he found too much and too little at once. With only a first name and a general location, he wasn’t certain what was relevant. There were too many avenues to follow, too many dead-ends to meet.

He searched the house; the black-haired android found traces everywhere. He learned he liked cats, had a fondness for music, could probably play the piano. He learned about him, but not who he was in Hwanwoong’s life. He’d clearly been a large part of it, but how did he manage to steal his heart away?

He didn’t want to analyze why the questioned burned at him the way it did.

There was one place left untouched: Hwanwoong’s laboratory.

The android stood in front of the basement door, his hand resting on the doorknob. Something told him the answers would be in the place Hwanwoong held most dearly. He hesitated; though he’d been inside several times, it was always with the blonde. Never before had he entered alone.

He broke past his reluctance and turned the knob; the stairwell came to life with lights. The system alerted him of an intruder’s entrance. He deleted the notification from its history — the unwanted visitor was himself.

Ravn wasn’t sure what he was going to find when he reached the landing. A diary? A ghost? A man trapped in cryogenic sleep? But he found no trace of any as he stepped foot inside. The laboratory was the same messy chaos he always expected to find. There were papers on the ground, while tools covered every surface available. A brown spot stained the floor; the blonde said it was from when he’d spilled tea. There was even a fork beside a keyboard. Hwanwoong insisted he knew where everything was but always spent an extra ten minutes looking for it. Ravn had been created to help him look for those things; tonight was proving no different. He was searching for something Hwanwoong lost.

Dark brown eyes assessed the room, trying to find anything amiss. Seeing nothing, he began cleaning up, putting things away into their proper places. The process was longer than he expected, his internal clock warning him of the time. He found a lot of things, but none of them relevant to the missing person.

Finally, he reached Hwanwoong’s main workstation. It was the only relatively clean area in the entire lab, save for the stray fork. The open drawer piqued his curiosity; it was surprisingly organized, with a layer of dust over an envelope and three small microchips inside a clear plastic container.

Curiosity won him over; he opened the brown envelope. The first saw his own blueprints. He scanned them out of curiosity, despite knowing he had them logged in his own memory. The details matched his own almost word per word. He was about to flip to the next page when his system notified him of a mismatch.

_Version 4.0_

If he breathed, his lungs would’ve seized right there. Hwanwoong had never told him he had predecessors. He knew of Keonhee and Leedo, but the former was still in development while the latter had his own project name. The fact Hwanwoong hid it from him was odd; he shared almost everything related to work with him. These details were too important for the human to simply forget. He’d made the conscious effort to exclude his past versions from his memory.

Why?

He poured over the next few pages, but only found additional technical details on himself. The envelope contained nothing else. The drawer was empty as well, save for the sealed memory chips.

He held up the small container to the light; it was smaller than the palm of his hand. They were unmarked and unnamed. Unlike the envelope, this one was clear of dust. It even held fingerprints of Hwanwoong. It was so small, so light, but he could somehow feel the weight they carried. He recognized the feeling that came over him. It was the same when he’d found Hwanwoong collapsed on the very chair he was sitting on now. Fear held him with its icy fingers, keeping him rooted when all he wanted was to desperately run.

He just didn’t know _why_ he was terrified.

He fought it, the same way he fought through the overwhelming panic when he’d carried Hwanwoong to his room. He opened the container, touching each briefly to search for the earliest amongst them. When he found the right one, he held it between his fingertips and began processing the information it held.

Distorted data flooded him as he scanned through the memories. There was almost nothing left to read; just bits and pieces of images and sound. Despite the warping, he recognized Hwanwoong’s voice. He was speaking to someone — he sounded softer, somehow lighter. The burden that weighed on him now didn’t exist back then.

The rest of the data was too damaged for him to use. He moved onto the next chip. He had far better luck this time around; unlike the first, there was an attempt at a database recovery for this one. Despite being only partially successful, he found one memory free of corruption, the clarity of it almost unnerving. This was a private memory; he was essentially reliving someone else’s life.

He was tidying up, arranging the display pieces on the table he recognized from the main hallway. Was this one of his predecessors, the same ones Hwanwoong failed to mention? He recognizes Hwanwoong’s footsteps approaching from behind.

He turns around, looking down to face the shorter man. There’s worry on the blonde’s face, an expression he was all too familiar with.

“Youngjo, are you done yet? We need to go check on Dongju today.” The statement confirms what he already suspected; the owner of the memories was Youngjo.

“Yeah, I’m done.” It’s the voice that responds that makes Ravn still; he rewinds just to make sure.

As if hearing his wish, Youngjo turns around. Hanging above the table was a giant mirror. A tall man with black hair and dark brown eyes looks back. He’s dressed in familiar clothes and had a face Ravn knew like the back of his hand. He recalls speaking to Dongju, how he’d almost called him a different name.

He was looking at himself.

_He_ was Youngjo.

  


When Hwanwoong awoke, he was reaching out to an empty space beside him. Medication made his mind slow. He shook his head, attempting to clear away the cobwebs inside it. The bedroom was quiet, the settled peace telling him it had been undisturbed for quite some time.

“Ravn?” The intercom next to his bed remained silent.

He tried again.

Still quiet.

Hwanwoong felt his heart drop, memories flooding him with panic. He jumped out of bed, sending the sheets flying. He didn’t bother getting his slippers; he ran barefoot around the house, scrambling to find the black-haired android. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. His illness was forgotten, replaced with only one thought: find Ravn.

Ravn’s bedroom was empty. He tried the dance studio next. No black-haired android there. The kitchen? None. He circled through the empty old house, dread filling him. If Ravn had left to do groceries or run any errands, he would’ve left a message. Even then, he would’ve responded on the intercom the moment he’d heard him call. He was connected to the house’s systems.

On his second pass through the living room, he had to stop. The blonde sank into an armchair, his knees feeling weak and his lungs out of breath. He heaved, both from exertion and panic. The morning sun shone brightly through the tall windows, but he found no comfort in its warmth and light. There could’ve been a blizzard outside and it wouldn’t have registered at all. He stamped down his emotions, forcing himself to think logically. If he could work through heartbreaking grief, he could manage this.

There was one place he hadn’t checked and it was his laboratory. The thought of finding him there chilled his bones. One vivid image came to mind: the android’s sudden collapse onto the floor, tea pooling around his unconscious body. The brown liquid resembled blood in the blue lights of his workshop. He could almost see it happening right in front of him at this very moment. The night was branded into his brain, a permanent scar that he couldn’t see.

But it was the sounds that followed him past his dreams and kept him awake at night. He was suffocated by the deafening silence whenever he lay in his bed, heard his own keening cries in his desperate attempts to wake Youngjo up.

He steeled himself to go there despite his fear. He’d already been through the worst three times, what was another?

A ball of steel sat on his gut when he opened the door to the basement. The lights were on; someone was inside. He carefully made his way downstairs, his feet feeling more and more like lead. When he reached the final step, he couldn’t bring himself to look up. His eyes were on his feet, terrified of what he might find.

Finally, he managed to pull his chin up and look. The sight that greeted him was much tamer than he expected. His laboratory was tidy, everything put away in its proper place. His tools were in their respective slots, papers were filed away in folders and his systems were all shut off. The only thing odd was Ravn, seated on his main desk, his eyes glassed over and focused on something he couldn’t see. Relief coursed through him and he rushed to his side.

“Ravn —” He stopped short when the android turned towards him. He finally saw what was in his hand; a small microchip. Behind Ravn, the drawer where he kept Youngjo’s memory chips was open. Finally, he dragged his eyes up to meet his gaze.

The eyes that often held such warmth carried something else. He could’ve dealt with anger; Hwanwoong deserved it after all. But it was the pain in them that undid him, destroying the last defense he had against the android.

He knew.

**Author's Note:**

> Back with more Rawoong! I'm not too satisfied with this personally, but angst isn't really something I dabble in too often. I'll be hinting what happened to them in the two other stories in this trilogy. Feel free to yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/sunnyravn) to finish this series. (:


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